


daylight

by Unclesteeb



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unclesteeb/pseuds/Unclesteeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morning doesn't feel much like morning if you don't sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	daylight

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr, [ here ](http://unclesteeb.tumblr.com/post/149999031531/daylight).

Sam walks in the kitchen when he’s done his run to find Bucky stirring a pot in his underwear. 

“Hey!” He says, smiling big and bright. “I made mac and cheese.”

“For breakfast?” Sam asks, wrinkling his nose and kicking off his shoes.

Bucky shrugs. “I wanted some.”

If Sam knows anything about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes it’s that the two of them have weird as fuck food tastes. He’s never seen anyone look excited about boiled, unseasoned cabbage before.

Sam grabs a glass of water and downs it in one gulp. “I’m too hot to eat. Nice outfit, by the way.”

“Well I’m too hot to get dressed. No one told me central Florida was going to be this disgusting.” He sounds a little like he’s whining which just speaks to the quality of day he’s having currently. The fact that Bucky’s allowing himself to get annoyed that they’re both stuck in Florida hiding in plain sight instead of back in New York is good. Normally he’s too trapped in self-hatred to say such a thing.

Sam remembers the first time Bucky let himself get frustrated about missing left arm. It was back before Steve went off to do whatever he’s doing now. Bucky was trying to cut up a piece of chicken and quietly let out a swear when he couldn’t quite get it right. Sam had watched Steve get swallowed up into an ocean of guilt, then watched as Bucky fed right into it, letting himself get pulled under too. Steve had left a few days later. But that didn’t matter now.

“It really is nasty down here.” Sam says.

Bucky leans over and gives Sam a peck. “You went running today!” He says. Sam knows that it took probably all of Bucky’s restraint not to swoop him up and kiss all over his face as soon as Sam walked back in the front door. Bucky gets so damn proud of Sam whenever Sam functions like an actual person. Sam would wonder why, if the whole kissing thing didn’t start because the two of them barely slept and decided to keep each other company instead.

“I did.” Sam says, almost letting himself smile. Bucky kisses him again.

“Eat some mac and cheese. When I was stirring the powder in I thought of you the whole time.”

Sam snorts, “Yeah about how gross I think this stuff is.”

“Just eat it.” Bucky says, but he’s laughing. It’s a good look on him.

Sam gives him a little shove, fills up his cup with ice water, then does.

**

“Do you miss flying?” Bucky asks him and yeah, Sam wasn’t prepared for that.

He bites his bottom lip and wiggles so that he’s further away from Bucky in their bed (Sam’s bed. But Bucky’s bed hasn’t had a body in it for a while). Suddenly being so close to Bucky just makes Sam feel like he’s choking.

“Yeah.” He manages, because there’s a lot of things Sam misses and one of them is definitely his wings.

“You know what I miss?” Bucky says, changing the subject but not trying to pull Sam close again. “Dancing.”

“You used to dance?”

“Well that was how to get laid back home.” Sam ignores the _home_ “If you couldn’t dance you weren’t anybody.”

“Do you remember how?”

“I remember how to swing dance.”

So they swing dance in their bedroom wearing underwear and listening to music playing out of Sam’s phone. Bucky picks him up and throws him around with just one arm in ways that soothe Sam’s soul, giggling the whole time like he doesn’t have another care in the world, like there’s nothing holding him back.

He catches Sam in his arm and beams. Sam can see the hint of James Barnes in his eyes. The sparkling, mischievous kid who probably got up more skirts (and down some trousers) than a lot of the other kids his age. The boy who could charm anyone with a kind smile and a smart mouth. Sam almost aches for him, to have that brilliant part of Bucky gone forever.

Sam must let it show on his face because Bucky’s smile drops. “You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Sam says, then, “you’re a good dancer.” Since ‘I love you’ is still too scary for the both of them.

“I learned a thing or two in my day.” Bucky says, soft and low, saying ‘I love you too’ without saying it. He lays Sam out on the bed. Sam goes easy, lets Bucky’s muscled body blanket his. Bucky kisses him slow and reverent and smiles into Sam’s skin when they collapse into a sweaty, happy mess after.

**

“I want you to c-cut my hair.”

“Why?” Sam asks, because he hasn’t known Bucky any other way.

“Because…because…” He starts, then huffs. Today isn’t a good talking day for Bucky. His speech seems tired and his voice sounds like he hasn’t used it in years.

It isn’t a good thinking day for Sam. He can’t string two thoughts together; stuck in Riley and Steve and his god damn mom and The Raft. He feels like clawing off his skin, also feels kind of like climbing into Bucky’s.

“I’m really tired.” He says instead of telling Bucky why he doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Sam thinks about the sky. He thinks about birds. He thinks about being free. He thinks about going to the beach with Bucky and sandy toes with warm sun streaming down on them. He thinks about Bucky’s hair after it has been exposed to salt air. He wonders if it would curl up. He wonders if Bucky would get freckles on his nose. Then he thinks about when the last time he’s been able to be carefree. Was it before he met Steve? Was it before he met Riley? Was his dad still alive?

He doesn’t realize he’s drifted until Bucky brings him back with a gentle touch to his cheek. Bucky doesn’t even try to smile at him. How long has he been lost in his brain?

“I’m really tired.” He says again. He feels it down to his bones. Bucky nods at him and stands up. He pulls on Sam’s shirt to get him to follow. Bucky leads them into their bedroom and lies down on the bed.

He pats the spot next to him. “Sleep.” He says. Sam covers himself up and turns away from Bucky to try and settle in. He doesn’t think it should be a problem. Today isn’t one of the days where he’s restless and too energetic for his own good. Bucky wraps his arm around Sam’s middle and presses a kiss to the nape of Sam’s neck. Then he starts to _hum_ , trying to sing Sam to sleep even though he doesn’t feel well enough to use any words. Sam lets his eyes fall shut and lets Bucky soothe him under.

**

“You’re so cute. You know that?” Bucky tells him. The sun’s rising and they’re relaxing on the back porch of their little house, drinking sweet tea like a couple of real southerners. They would be drinking iced coffee if they weren’t up half the night. Morning doesn’t feel much like morning if you don’t sleep.

“I do.” Sam says, but he feels his cheeks heat up regardless. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Oh golly gee. You’re swell.” He takes a sip of his sweet tea and sucks an ice cube into his mouth his eyes smiling with what he thought was a pretty funny line. Then he grins as he chews it up. He picks up his cup again and scoots over on the porch step so that he’s all up in Sam’s space.

“Hey baby,” Sam says, laughing a little. Bucky laughs at himself and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he doesn’t move away. He leans in and gives Sam a kiss on the cheek.

“You wanna neck for a while?” Bucky asks.

Sam thinks that sounds pretty nice.

Bucky kisses him slow and sweet. He smells like skin and sweat and cups the back of Sam’s neck gently. His tongue’s cold against Sam’s from the ice he’s been chewing. It makes Sam laugh.

“What?”

“Your tongue is _cold_.”

Bucky grins and takes a big swig of sweet tea, pulling another ice cube into his mouth. He sucks on it for a moment before he opens his mouth for Sam to see the ice cube on his tongue. “You want it?” He asks without closing his mouth.

Sam giggles and shoves Bucky’s knee. “Gross.” But Sam kisses him again anyway. When Sam gets Bucky to open his mouth again, he gets a few ice chips for his troubles, cool against his tongue in Bucky’s mouth. It makes Sam smile against Bucky’s lips.

“You’re the gross one.” Bucky informs him. It’s still hot as hell outside even though the sun’s just rising in the sky. Sam wipes the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his shirt. Bucky stares at him. His hair’s pulled back off his neck today in a tiny bun. It makes Sam want to pull the tie out and mess it up. “See? Gross and sweaty.” Bucky says, then he gets himself a new ice cube and leans in again. He doesn’t go for Sam’s lips this time, but his neck instead. He keeps the ice cube perched at the front of his mouth and runs it down Sam’s skin. Sam’s breath hitches at the feeling.

“‘S cold.”

Bucky cheeks the ice cube. “Want me to stop?”

“No.”

He keeps going, making sure Sam can feel the ice melting between his neck and Bucky’s burning hot mouth. The cool water drips down and pools in Sam’s collarbone. When the ice cube melts and Sam starts panting a little Bucky sucks a bruise into Sam’s neck, making him gasp.

“Everyone’s gonna see,” Sam teases weakly. They both know that that’s not true. It’s just them now. They only have each other. Bucky’s mouth is so hot against Sam’s skin.

“Good.” Bucky says, soothing the new bruise with a lick and then traveling his mouth up to Sam’s ear. “Everyone will know.” and it makes Sam shiver. It feels like a promise. “I want everyone to know.” It feels like maybe their friends will be showing up for breakfast any minute. Then Bucky bites Sam’s neck again.

**

It’s not a good day. Sam knew it wasn’t going to be a good day when he woke in the dark with Riley’s name ghosting his lips. He feels trapped and itchy, but leaving the house feels even worse. He stays in bed instead.

Bucky brings him coffee and sits with him while Sam drinks it. Bucky’s added a little more sugar than Sam normally takes, making the coffee taste like a treat. Bucky fills the silence with things he remembers about Steve, funny stories about his tiny friend being generally hilarious. Normally they might make Sam laugh but today they just make Sam curl in on himself. Maybe Steve not being here with them means more to Sam than he thought. Maybe he’s just being really sensitive today.

Bucky tries again, making him breakfast- eggs over easy with toast since he knows Sam likes to dip his toast in the yolks. Sam gets through it but curls up again as soon as he’s done.

“Can I touch you?” Bucky asks and Sam says yes.

Bucky rests next to him, lying on his side. He keeps his face angled away from Sam so that he can’t feel Bucky’s hot breath since sometimes it makes Sam a little panicky. Bucky puts his hand on Sam’s back and rubs gentle circles into it. Sam can feel some of the tension leave his muscles. He lets his body go lax and his eyes shut.

“You're…” Bucky says, “you…mean a lot to me.”

Any other day Sam would start laughing. Bucky’s trying so hard and it’s adorable. He doesn’t say anything back, so Bucky continues, his hand freezing on Sam’s back.

“And I…” Then he sighs. “You should know that I love you. A lot.” He starts rubbing Sam’s back again.

Sam doesn’t much feel like talking, but his heart feels warm in a way that it hasn’t in a long time. He leans his face down to the collar of Bucky’s shirt and places a kiss there.

**

“Do you want Raisin Bran or Frosted Flakes?” Sam asks. Bucky’s pretending like he’s not barely holding it together. Sam can see it in his body. It’s a thick line of tension. His hand is shaking. Sam’s trying to pretend Bucky’s okay too, since that’s what he prefers Sam to do.

“Frosted Flakes.” Bucky answers after a moment.

Sam pours the two bowls of cereal and pads into the living room. Bucky’s staring through the TV. Sam hands Bucky his bowl and then switches the channel to a ‘how it’s made’ documentary. The relaxing music and repetitive motions on the screen always ease his mind when he’s feeling bad. It’s worth a try for Bucky too.

He sits down in the recliner and watches how lotion is bottled while he munches on his cereal. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Bucky shifting in his seat. Sam has one bite left when Bucky finally says, “Come here.”

Sam does immediately, since Bucky asking for any kind of comfort is something worth celebrating. Sam give them some space on the couch and takes his last bite before putting the bowl down next to Bucky’s untouched one.

Bucky instantly flops down on Sam, putting his head in Sam’s lap. Sam strokes a hand through his hair, getting out the knots that Bucky ignored this morning.

“I’m having a bad day.” Bucky says softly, as if Sam can’t tell.

“It’s okay.” Sam says, “I love you anyway.”

Bucky sighs and goes boneless, like hearing Sam say it back finally is a weight off his shoulders. “You too,” He replies. Then he closes his eyes and rests in the morning sun.


End file.
